Second Impressions
by Eight Horcrux
Summary: Severus finds himself at Grimmauld Place for summer and winds up befriending the last person he ever thought possible. [SS/RL]
1. I

"Among us kneels a traitor."

Panicked murmurs moved among the circle. From beneath their dark masks, eyes flickered – blue, grey, green, red, black, brown. The graveyard held an already unsettling chill; thick mist had enveloped their bent knees, swirling between the large gaps between some of them – those who had been too afraid to return.

"A slippery fiend. One whose loyalties I questioned briefly before my downfall-" a murmur of disgust and contempt passed around the circle. "- but they were the one who delivered all the key information to me. Without their cunning ways, I would never have known of the Potters and their sons capabilities."

The circle tensed. Slight shifting and rustling could be heard as knees adjusted into the wet, mucky grass. If one listened close enough, dry swallows could be heard and the nervous flicker of eyes as each one tried to make eye contact in some silent plead to hand themselves over, whoever they were.

"Stand, traitor! Show yourself." The Dark Lord lifted his wand, sweeping it in a rigid circle until it came to rest on one body.

"My Lord," a deep whisper came from the hunched figure. All eyes flickered forward. They did not know who hid beneath the mask; it's heavy duty wear muffled their voices. Whoever they were shuffled forward, head bowed and hands bared in a pleading fashion. "My Lord, I beg of you to reveal where this knowledge has come from."

"Do you _mock_ my judgement?"

"Never my Lord."

The Dark Lord leered; he brought his wand to his chest; long, thin and ghostly grey fingers caressed it's length while his tongue poked between angular teeth. "Stand, traitor," he hissed, "Do not tempt me further."

The Traitor stood, his knees wobbled slightly, though his composure remained stiff. His eyes flickered throughout the circle. He dared not meet their gaze; he could sense the sickening excitement in the atmosphere, the very same he had felt in his youth right before a killing.

"_Crucio_!"

It was a forgotten pain; one the Traitor had banished from memory and hoped he would never have to relive. Yet there it was, a pain so intense he almost forgot his surroundings. Sharp, hot, piercing. The inferno swept through his body, flowed through his veins and pierced every inch of his skin.

His knees buckled, bringing him to the floor. His mouth hung open in a silent scream; one he knew that if he were to release it, would bring laughter, encouragement and further torture. The pain seized for a moment, but he continued to spasm on the floor, still hunched over in that begging fashion he loathed.

"Rise once more, traitor. I will give you this moment to stand and face death." His muscles twitched uncontrollably against his aching skin and he struggled to move. He had forgotten the effects of the cruciatus curse; forgotten the pain, humiliation and the lasting burn.

"Or not," The Dark Lord spat. "_Crucio_!"

It was unforgiving, unrelenting and carried on until he succumbed to the pain, with one crippling roar of agony. It echoed among the graves, hitting the tombstones and rattling leaves from their branches. Laughter erupted among the circle, some cheered and begged for "More, my Lord. More!" They were silenced with glares and sometimes a taste of crucio for a second or more, before they scuttled back into the fold.

"My Lord, I beg of you." The Traitors voice was feeble, his breathing rattled and a slither of blood made it's way from under the mask and across his robes. "I am as honest and true as the day I took your mark, my Lord. I remained hidden to protect my identity and to fool Dumbledore. Had I left his side immediately, he would have been suspicious and threatened your greater plan, my Lord."

"All these years," he continued, shuffling forward on burning knees to bring his lips to the hem of The Dark Lords robe. "All these years I never gave up hope. I remained in my position at Hogwarts, my Lord. I have gained Dumbledore's trust. He believes me to be wholeheartedly on his side and he confides in me his deepest thoughts."

"Do not try to soften me, Severus." The Dark Lord lowered his wand. "You have made a grave mistake in not seeking me out. All of you!" He turned, extending his wand to each bowed head. "You have all coward behind your names for years, hiding among your riches and status, believing me gone for good!"

"You have all betrayed me!" he roared; a flash of red light erupted from his wand, hitting the nearest figure and sent him writhing into painful screams.

One after the other they fell to the floor, twitching and shaking until they echoed Severus Snape's screams; only then did The Dark Lord lift the curse. He turned to Severus's hunched figure, still on his knees, head bowed and breathing now even.

"Look at me," he hissed, bringing his hand to tilt Severus' head. "You have made mistakes, my friend. You chose to hide comfortably beneath Dumbledore's protection. You did not seek me. None of you did! While our brothers and sisters met their downfall, confined within the walls of Azkaban, murdered by the Ministry, and slayed at the hands of Albus Dumbledore - you all forgot."

"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord," Severus whispered, his lips coming to meet the hem of The Dark Lords robe once more. "I was a fool."

"Yes, Severus. You were. But unlike these other fools, you were cunning and sly, as always. You may have been a coward, my friend, but your slippery ways have given me deeper access into Dumbledore's world. I forgive you for your lax in loyalty."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"But be warned, Severus. Twice you have come to my attention and twice you have made your way back into my favour. Luck will evade you eventually, my sly friend. For now, you may leave me to deal with these other fools."

"Thank you, my Lord. This is more than I deserve."

Severus shuffled backwards, breaking the circle before he rose to his feet; still wobbling and holding back whimpers of pain, he made to turn.

"Before you leave, Severus. One more thing."

"My Lord?"

A haze of white light hit him in the shoulder. He gasped, grunting deeply and clutching it with his free hand. His knees threatened to give way as a steady flow of warm blood slipped between his trembling fingers.

"Until our next meeting, Severus. It will give you something to think about," he hissed, turning his back and unleashing a series of red cruico's at the remaining death eaters, all the while cackling before he dismissed them.

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><p><em>Second Impressions Chapter One - Complete. I've been wanting to write a story with chapters for a long time now. I was adamant that it would be a Snupin, and this is the result. Do get on board for the journey! The more the merrier. See you all in chapter two . <em>


	2. II

Severus landed painfully, ten or more feet away from his destination, and crumbled to his knees. Security measures flashed vaguely through his mind; walk with confidence and swiftness toward the doors; repeat '_12 Grimmauld Place_' and enter promptly. He forgot to look up and down what he hoped was an abandoned street. Severus knew if anyone were to catch sight of him bleeding across the pavement and then to suddenly disappear, that he would attract too much unwanted attention.

'_12 Grimmauld Place. 12 Grimmauld Place._'

The black door appeared, haphazardly pushing the houses either side away, and he leaned heavily against the wrought iron bars for support. He was lucky to have gotten this far, in fact, he knew he was lucky to have apparated into that circle without being killed on sight. Adrenaline had gotten him here; some of it built from memories of what to expect, the rest from pure fear – though he would never admit it.

Returning to The Dark Lord after Potter had re-entered the maze had terrified Severus. In a moment of what he now thought to be insanity, he had flashed his left arm at the Minister of Magic, in front of Potter, and despite Dumbledore vouching for him, couldn't shake the lurking thoughts that he was going to be carted to Azkaban before he could get inside the safe house. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if a cell in Azkaban was safer than the role Dumbledore was expecting him to play.

Just as the door opened, his knees gave way; his hand fell from his shoulder to allow the blood flow freely and before he could hit the floor, a pair of arms steadied him. He could briefly make out the direction he was half carried, half dragged. The corridors were dark and cold. Familiar but far away voices wafted around him; he heard urgent cries of '_Quickly_._ Take him to the kitchen.'_ and felt another pair of hands support him to his right.

"Severus? Severus can you hear me?"

Dumbledore. He tried to focus his gaze on one of the Headmasters many forms, for in his moment of hallucination there were five, each moving in different directions. The surroundings now were bright and he was placed in a chair, slouching a little. He could here rattling behind him, voices echoed and hands touched him all over. He tried to shuffle away but was too weak to put up a fight. A bottle touched his lips and warm liquid soothed his throat. The familiar taste told him it was a strengthening potion.

"Just rest, Professor Snape."

A female. He shifted against her touch. Her hands were soft, but shook. Severus thought if he could spare the blood that he would be red from anger or embarrassment, as she cut his robes from him and stifled a gasp. He grunted, trying to maneuver away but his shoulder sent a burst of pain through his body.

"What happened, Severus?"

He shook his head, pushing the woman's hands away and grappling for his wand. "Heal it," he murmured, blindly searching his tattered, blood stained shirt. "Heal it, Albus. It's burning."

Despite his pained groans, his shirt was torn from his body to reveal the gaping wound along his shoulder and collar bone. He knew from the flames that licked his insides his wound was cursed and he slammed his hand against it, recoiling from their touch.

"Don't touch it," he gasped. He could feel his eyes rolling again, his tongue becoming looser by the second in his attempt to stay conscious. "Cursed. It's cursed."

.

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><p>.<p>

Severus woke the following morning in a bed far too comfortable to be in Spinner's End; in a room that smelled way too musty to be his personal quarters at Hogwarts; and in too much pain to believe he had died in that chair last night. If he didn't know any better, he would have believed that faith had finally caught up with him and he was now condemned to years of painful torment as a punishment for his past doings.

His mind felt fuzzy, but his body was no fool; his muscles ached and lying in one spot hurt more than trying to manipulate his legs into shifting. Severus could taste blood in his throat which felt dry and stung when he swallowed. When his shoulder ached unpleasantly, he cautiously cracked an eye lid to examine the damage. He was shirtless, his left arm exposed to anyone who should walk freely into the darkened room, save for a thick white bandage that crossed his chest and shoulder and went around his back. He took an extra moment to ensure that his trousers had remained intact during last nights event.

He muttered a profanity, tenderly fingering where he knew the gash weeped beneath the sterile cloth. Running a hand through his hair, he cringed as it felt thick in damp sweat, and closed his eyes again. There was little he could do to move; somewhat annoyed at his situation but more intimidated by the pulsing flesh beneath the bandage, Severus stayed rooted to the bed. Looking around the room, he was oddly reminded of Spinners End. It was dark, aged and probably held more secrets than he had concealed within his mind. A dusty vanity had been pushed against one wall, it's matching mahogany closet placed at a careless angle alongside it; wall paper peeled in various locations and he knew from the mere smell that the curtains were heavy with dust. Despite the rooms forgotten look, the bed was big, soft and the silken sheets kept the summer heat at bay from his already uncomfortable body.

A knock broke his trail of thought and he cocked his head in a confused fashion, for a brief moment extremely lost for words, then uttered "Come in?" He fought a scowl when Professor Dumbledore crossed the threshold, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

"I'm glad to see you've woken up," he said by way of greeting, then motioned his head in way of asking could he be seated at the rear of the bed. Severus nodded. "I won't lie -"

"You never do," Severus remarked.

"You look terrible."

"I always appreciated your subtle ways."

Dumbledore smiled, but his eyes betrayed him and he slipped into a picture of seriousness. "I need you to relay the details to me, Severus. Now would be better than later."

Severus knew better than to expect mental or emotional healing time; these concepts didn't exist in Professor Dumbledore's world, but he was used to interrogation by now. "I apparated into the circle, late as you know," he began, resting his head back into the pillow. Without knowing, he rubbed his left arm against his torso. It had been prickling uncomfortably since waking; not a call, he knew, more of a punishment. "I thought I was safe after my apologies, but he was angry. I don't know who else was there – we all wore masks, as you know – but there were enough to show he still has support."

"Lucius Malfoy?"

"I don't know, Albus. There were gaps though. A lot of them. Most of them are detained in Azkaban now – the Lestranges, Rookwood, Mulciber – others were killed a long time ago, and I can guarantee from Karkaroff's ranting all year, that he's done a runner up north somewhere. Swine deserves whatever faith finds him!"

"How did Voldemort look?"

Severus recoiled slightly, catching himself too late to prevent the throb in his collar bone. "Complete," he grunted. "He looked almost human. He's got a wand again. He's fully restored, Albus. He's back."

Dumbledore nodded, eyes flitting up and down Severus's frame and his fingers knotted together. "Has he mentioned a plan of action?"

"Nothing yet."

"What did he do to you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, blue eyes lingering on the bandaged shoulder.

"It's cursed. I recognise it from years back. Rookwood was handy with cursed wounds and he taught us all back then."

"I managed to detain it to your shoulder. The bleeding stopped but it wouldn't close. I assumed you would have a solution?"

"It's better left untouched. This is my punishment for not seeking him out."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded again, adjusting himself slightly against the mattress, which made Severus rock painfully.

"Don't try to woe me with small talk, Albus. I'm not easily swayed as you know. I'm not backing down from our agreement either. I'm still on your side. I'm still your man."

"I ask too much of you, Severus."

"You've asked me for nothing yet," he reminded him.

"I will have to ask you eventually."

"And I'll be ready."

"You understand that I cannot permit you to leave Grimmauld Place until further notice."

Severus glowered. "There is no reason for me to reside here, Albus. There is nothing here for me. I can care well for myself and I will need to be able to come and go for meetings when I'm called. I cannot disappear off the face of the planet now that The Dark Lord is back."

"You may move freely throughout the house, Severus. Though I recommend staying away from the top floor and the bedroom down the corridor. Mr Weasley tried to remove a diary from there that clamped shut around his fingers and wouldn't let go for 4 hours."

"I have things to deal with."

"You may still deal with them. But I will need you to stay where I can get to you easily, without fear of Death Eaters intruding on our tea breaks. Come and go as you please. But I can guarantee when you finally do get around to attempting to move from this bed, you'll decide against any excursions. You're in more pain than you think."

"Who tended to me?" he asked warily.

"Mrs Weasley, mostly. She's got a way with wounds after raising all those children, though I can say your injuries were more than grazed knees. She did a fine job regardless. Remus Lupin helped you to bed," he mentioned, failing to control that twinkle Severus knew.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, this is now headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. With time you'll see many more faces pass on through and Severus, I expect you to trust in yourself." He rose and stretching slightly. "You're more capable of letting go than you give yourself credit for."

"Don't try and soften me, Dumbledore. You'll be lucky to find me alive after a week with two mongrels for company."

"I'm sure you'll manage. Rest, Severus. You're in good hands."

He left soon after, there was only so much discussion of imminent destruction and possible death missions Severus could handle before pretending to feign exhaustion. When Dumbledore eventually did leave, he was surprised to find himself slipping back into a slumber, his left arm prickling, his right shoulder throbbing, and his mind failing to empty itself.

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><p><em>Fayet: I always did like to start with a bang. Personally, no matter how brave and cunning I like to think I am, I'd probably throw myself at Voldemort's mercy or Avada Kedavra myself. <em>

_snapefan18: Here's your update! Thanks for enjoying it :]_

_Lupinesence: I love your pen name! Snupin is my OTP. I'll never forgive J.K for not having them date. _

_Second Impressions Chapter II - Complete. Thank you to all who reviewed, favourited, followed, etc,. _


	3. III

_Icy fingers trailed his spine, soaking his bones with magic and rendering him motionless. The waters below him were black, raging tides that sloshed against the edge of the cliff he was perched dangerously upon. His eyes were closed, but he could feel the imminent fall and painful death that awaited him..._

Severus woke with a start, his breath hitched painfully in his chest and he spluttered a sharp cough. He had been dreaming again. It was the same dream every night since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place. Somewhere in the back of his mind the dream seemed familiar, like he had been in that moment before, but he could not recall it. Severus woke at the same point in the dream every night, the vicious waves rolling beneath his feet and a feeling of uncertainty and loss of control.

"Get it together," he whispered to no one, rubbing his left arm across his torso as it had begun to prickle again.

With effort, he pushed himself from the bed and adjusted the sling. His shoulder hadn't improved and he knew it wouldn't until The Dark Lord chose to heal it for him. It could have been worse, he reminded himself when it sent a sharp pain down his arm. Sighing, he palmed his eyes, dragging his fingers through his hair.

It had been four days. He had spent them all in bed, not by choice, rather Dumbledore had insisted each time he called that Severus give himself one more day to rest. While bed bound he had thought of nothing but how different life was going to become. Severus knew that times ahead were going to be darker, dangerous and he knew he wasn't getting out of it alive. It was a faith he had accepted a long time ago; and while sitting with Dumbledore before the Quidditch World Cup escapades, Severus had admitted to the older man that he didn't plan to survive the final battle.

_"I don't intend on getting out of this one alive, Headmaster," he admitted ,pressing his forehead to the cold glass. It had been a meeting he had tried to avoid, one he hoped would never come, but one that had become necessary._

_"Alas, I fear Hagrid's rock cakes have taken a wrong turn within me too," Dumbledore smiled, pushing the plate away and leaning into his chair. "Sit my boy, have some tea. I dare say you'll taste no finer than Hogwarts tea over summer."_

_"It's been growing darker by the days. Not just out there," he motioned across the night sky, where he knew no doubt there was activity from the others who noticed too. "But here." He pulled up his sleeve, crossing the room to shove his forearm beneath Dumbledore's nose. The Dark Mark stood starkly against his pale skin, not black yet, but now far more than a cursed red scar._

_"How long?" Dumbledore asked, catching Severus' wrist and rotating his arm to examine every angle._

_"A month, maybe two."_

_"And the pain?"_

_"Some prickling, no burning. I put it down to imagination," he said, his face crumbling with disgust at his own admission. "It's happening, Albus. Sooner than you thought."_

A knock on the door startled him. He cursed quietly beneath his breath; he hadn't been this jumpy in a long time. Shaking the remnants of his memories and his nightmares away, he rose from the bed with a groan and opened the door. Dumbledore stared back, twinkling as always; he held a suitcase in one arm and a cage in the other.

"Your belongings," he announced, threading into the dimly lit bedroom and dropping them near the bed. Severus glowered down at the suitcase and cage.

"What happened to not wanting to be in an environment where Death Eaters might suddenly spawn?" he snipped, irritated at the Headmasters persistence and intrusion on his personal space.

"House elves are great creatures,"Dumbledore declared, a slight shrug of his left shoulder and a quick grin further annoyed Severus.

"Severus, come now. All of your possessions were at Hogwarts. You don't think an old fool like me would dare intrude your wards at Spinners End?"

Severus grunted, hoisting the suitcase to the bed. "I must insist Albus, that I don't stay here too long. I've got potions to brew and stores to stock for next term. Not to mention grading papers and reports."

"All trivial to the greater cause, my boy," Dumbledore smiled, perching on the arm of the rickety old chair. "Severus, I'd like you to meet me downstairs for lunch."

Severus eyed him over the suitcase while he shrugged a clean shirt across his shoulders, trying not to look ridiculous. It wasn't the first time he had found himself helpless and shirtless in front of somebody. It had been a regular occurrence in his younger days of creative brewing; he would never tell anyone, but Madam Pomfrey could probably sketch every inch of his body if asked. He concealed a shudder, feigning his ignorance when he thought of it.

"Perhaps another time."

"There is no better time," Dumbledore warned, abandoning Severus to struggle with his buttons.

* * *

><p>Grimmauld Place was as the name suggested – grim and old. Severus found it fascinating though, and while he grudgingly made his way to the kitchen, couldn't help but admire each portrait that he passed, particularly intrigued by a heavily curtained snoring one.<p>

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you." Severus didn't need to turn to place the voice, already the mans pompous exterior floated through his mind. "I can come up with enough insults for you without the help of that particular portrait."

"Protective custody has been treating you well," Severus barked, smirking when Sirius' grin dwindled. He had allowed himself time to think of the two dwellers that moved about the house while he was in bed – Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Severus had decided before even meeting the two, for it was Mrs Weasley or Professor Dumbledore who catered for him, that his plan of attack would be matched perfectly to both of their demeanor – lowly and pathetic.

"You must be feeling pretty snug now that you can lick Dumbledore's boots again," Sirius retorted, pushing past him and warily leading him down the kitchen steps.

"I believe that's a trait more suited to mongrels," Severus said, adjusting his composure before he moved around Black's frame and into the kitchen.

Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin sat at one end of a long wooden table; a pot of broth was set between them, where 4 place mats lay waiting, and a soothing fire crackled in the grate. It wasn't until Severus took a seat on Dumbledore's right and away from the open flame, did he realise how cold the kitchen was, and regretted wearing just a shirt.

"Mrs Weasley's finest," Dumbledore announced, ladling a heap onto Severus' plate and then his own.

Severus glared when he noticed Sirius' smug grin across the table. His shoulder ached and moving it any direction made him feel queasy. His wand had stayed idle these last few days, and his fingers itched to cast a spell; any spell -a charm, a joke, an unforgivable, even. He wanted to feel the warmth in his fingertips, the power in his palm. Severus didn't like to admit it, but over the years, he had become very dependent on magic and it's ability to solve what his mind was too tired to focus on.

"So, Remus. Any luck on the job front?" Dumbledore asked, ignorant to any discretion of sorts to fill the growing silence.

Remus shrugged. "Not many people are willing to hire a man who pre-books his sick days years in advance. For now, Headmaster, I make do with the odd job here or there."

"If it weren't for pathetic ignorance, Albus," Sirius said, his eyes casting daggers in Severus' direction. "Remus would have had the whole of Hogwarts prepared for what lay ahead."

"Because Hinkypunks are our biggest threat," Severus quipped, taking a mouth of broth before pushing his plate away.

"There a far bigger threat than you in that state, Snape!"

"We could always use extra hands at Hogwarts, Remus," Dumbledore announced, loud enough to cut across any remark Severus had prepared and leaving Sirius one strike up.

"A school is no place for the likes of me," Remus confessed, nodding his head in graceful thanks. "Unless Hagrid requires me for a show and tell during the full moon, I don't think I'd be much use!"

Severus watched his former colleague closely. They had not made eye contact since his arrival, and Severus was left with the impression the man was still bitter about his announcement at the end of last year. It could hardly be helped, he decided. Lupin was a danger not only to the staff and students of Hogwarts, but his capabilities as a teacher were highly questionable. He felt a heat at the back of his neck as he recalled the Boggart incident.

There was little that made Severus feel sorry for people. He believed that each person was dealt a hand of cards and how they interpreted and chose to live through these cards was each to their own. Yet, as they lapped into another silence, the air heavy with forced hospitality, Severus couldn't help but stare at Remus Lupin.

The man had aged considerably since they had last seen each other – it had only been a year! His hair now held more grey than Severus could count, his eyes were heavy in what Severus recognised as restless sleep, and there were two new scars on the very edge of his jaw, perfectly parallel to one another.

Severus Snape lay fitfully that night in bed. His left arm had begun to prickle again and he feared a call was coming. Unsure of when or what was in store for him, he sipped a dreamless drought and slipped into a light sleep, unaware of the other inhabitants of Grimmauld Place, and whatever restless slumber they struggled through.

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><p><em>Lupinesence: I'd hate to be Severus surrounded by his chidhood tormentors too , tbh. I feel so bad for the guy sometimes. He'd probably hate me for pitying him!<em>

_Second Impressions Chapter Three - Complete. I've found myself writing a lot of one-shots lately. My most recent being 'Rain', a Draco/Snape drabble. Anyway, I hope you're all well!_


	4. IV

_Question: Do you find stories easier to read when the text is centered or to the left? I know it's different for each person, and I personally find it easier in the center, but it's you guys that matter. So, what do you say?_

_As always, thank you for those who continue to get involved and return each chapter. We're the one's who keep the magic alive. _

_._

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><p>.<p>

Usually, the end of another school year was a good thing for Severus Snape; for he could escape the mountain of failing potions behind his desk, sleep in on a weekday and freshen his brain after a year of what felt like talking to a brick wall. Today though, he sat near the dying embers of a once blazing fire in the cold kitchen at Grimmauld Place. As he huddled into his robes, a letter he had been reading lay forgotten on his lap and his thoughts poised uncertainly on the past, present and future.

There were moments when he found himself staring idly out a window, watching muggles wander by and feeling almost envious of their ignorance to the danger that lay too close for comfort. He yearned to stretch his legs somewhat, to smell the fresh air and maybe even brew a potion or two, just for fun.

Hiding was not a feeling he was accustom to and it was not something he intended to make a habit of. Dumbledore was persistent, yes; Dumbledore was wise, yes; but Dumbledore was also a meddling old man. Though Severus respected his elders concern for him, he couldn't hide his anger and brooding humiliation each time he passed Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Hearing their laughter echo throughout the house made him smoulder, and feelings he had buried long ago began to kindle.

_"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" "Greasy Git." "Slimy Snake!"_

Shaking the memories from his mind, he rose to fetch a pot of tea and without meaning to, broke a cup handle in frustration. He could hear their footsteps above him; Black's which he knew by now were loud and turbulent, much like his personality; and Lupin's which were soft but quick and sometimes too quiet for Severus to even realise his presence was near. They were joined by a third set of steps, all too familiar to Severus' ear.

"Perfect timing. I do love chai tea,"

He turned with a roll of his eyes and a well sustained grumble. Dumbledore entered the kitchen, ducking beneath the door frame to ensure his tall hat remained intact. "Should you not be scouring the castle to ensure all students have left?" Severus snapped, irritated at the sight of Remus and Sirius entering behind him.

"I dare say not many would leap at the opportunity to remain behind after Mr Diggory's death," Dumbledore warned, a sad smile crossing his lips and he took a seat next to Severus'. "Sit."

He obeyed, leaning into the old chair with a sigh and rolling his letter. "How are the parents?" he asked, toying with the ribbon wrapped around the parchment. He took a moment to imagine his finger were Black's neck and the ribbon a rope, then poured Dumbledore some tea.

"Devastated, as one could only imagine. Amos Diggory had to be escorted from the green by Hagrid. Mrs. Diggory was quiet. The loss of a child is, after all, a lifelong journey. I dare say her emotions will catch up with the events."

"And Potter?" Severus queried, glowering at the very mention of the boy's name. He saw Sirius' head flit upwards from the corner of his eye.

"Safely on the train home to his relatives," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling and a twitch playing in the crease of his smile. "Your Slytherin's missed you," he added before Sirius, who had seated himself and Remus furthest away from Severus, could intervene.

Severus grunted. He had not forgotten his duties while away from Hogwarts. The final day of the year brought much happiness to many, but for some, the final day of the year brought a long summer sadness. It was a farce that Slytherin students came from riches and royalties, an even bigger deceit that they were born of sheer love and passion. While many came from warmth and unity, Severus knew of too many who returned from Hogwarts to cold manors, dilapidating council houses and bitter arms.

"They will manage," he hoped, "I have met with my seventh years already. I hope to have guided them onto the right path, Albus. But I fear that recent events will have swayed their career opportunities."

"You will have given them all that you can, Severus. I don't doubt that."

"Lucius Malfoy has been in touch," Severus said, lifting the letter enough to show Dumbledore the elegant signature. "The Dark Lord has been summoning them one by one. Lucius didn't say what for, though he had his tongue well under the heel of my boot with praise."

"I would imagine Lucius Malfoy is nervous of his impending future," Dumbledore remarked, pouring another cup of tea. "He is somewhat a topic of interest at the Ministry. His status isn't as secure as it used to be, as you know."

Severus snorted. He knew all too well of Lucius' grip on the families who worked in the Ministry. Just recently Lucius had come under fire when his application to reapply for Governor had been dismissed, and with it a thick report that mentioned his bidding on dark objects in Knockturn Alley.

"You have seen the Daily Prophet, I would imagine," Dumbledore asked and though Severus had not read the paper in a long time, the glimmer in Dumbledore's eye made him instinctively reach for it across the table. Before he could touch it though, it was summoned from him by Sirius, who then crumpled it into the fireside.

"_He_ doesn't need to see anything," Sirius barked.

Severus' reply came strangled as suddenly his arm seared with a pulsating heat. The onset choked him momentarily, and he jerked without meaning to, banging his knee against the leg of the table. Across the room, Sirius barked with laughter, pocketing is wand when he realised danger was not imminent.

"Now?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward to search Severus' eyes. Across the table Remus perched half sitting and half standing, eyes trained on Severus' left arm. "Get someone to King's Cross, Remus - yourself and Mad-Eye. He's more than eager to participate after the years events... Sirius, remain on standby," he ordered, much to Severus' delight when Black had opened his mouth in protest.

Severus stripped the bandage from his wound, knowing that signs of weakness would earn him reprimand. His shoulder stung upon contact, but he shrugged his robes on anyway. Behind him, he could hear Sirius ambling after Remus, half begging Dumbledore to be allowed go. _Bloody mongrel. Interfering bas- stop it! Clear your mind._ He took the kitchen steps two at a time, fastening his cloak with one hand and shuffling his thoughts into there appropriate places.

Unsure of The Dark Lord's intentions, he tried not to overwhelm the possibilities. It was unlikely there would be an attack today, it was too soon. The Dark Lord would never risk exposing himself before a platform of wizards and certainly not now that he knew Dumbledore was aware of his return.

Severus landed smoothly after apparating, surprised at his own ability to remain upright despite the burn in his left arm, the throb in his right shoulder and the panic in his mind as he assembled his thoughts. He had never stopped using occlumency; over the the years he had taken to infiltrating the minds of lying students to discover whether they had truly forgotten their potions assignment or had just been too lazy to complete it. Their minds were putty when compared to The Dark Lord's and Severus was sure his own abilities would waver under the pressure.

The house he had apparated to was dark, cold and smelled of damp. He was met at the door by Peter Pettigrew, the small man who Severus now noted was thinning incredibly and looked more feeble than before. "You're on time," he smirked, failing to straighten himself beneath Severus' tall shadow, so instead flashed his silver hand. "Follow me."

"The Dark Lord has been growing stronger beneath my care," Peter bragged, "I hate to think where he would be without me."

"I know where you would have been without him, Pettigrew," Severus snarled, elbowing the smaller man against a wall and striding passed him. Thoughts of the past threatened to loom forward, but he beat them back, almost pining when a flicker of red hair flashed in his mind. Now was not the time to wallow on what could have been, he reminded himself, then stepped into the room.

The Dark Lord greeted him with a tight lipped smile. "Ah, Severus. You made it," he said, "I was worried I had frightened you at our last meeting."

"I am eager to return, my Lord," Severus lied, dropping to one knee. The room was dimly lit with a small, green fire burning in the grate. When he strained his ears enough, Severus thought he could hear a small beating coming from a door behind The Dark Lord... or maybe that was his heart.

"You are nervous. Where have you been hiding these last few days, Severus? A source tells me that you have not been at Hogwarts."

Severus fought the urge to narrow his eyes. A source? No doubt Draco had told Lucius of his absence during the last days of term; like father like son. He felt a foreign movement in his mind and knew The Dark Lord was sifting through his thoughts and memories, hoping to uncover the deceit to prove his mistrust.

"Hogsmeade, my Lord." Severus said, conjuring an image of the Hog's Head with it's dingy rooms, filth encrusted bay windows and broken wooden tables. In this vision, he lay on a ratty bed, sickly and sore, writing in pain. When he felt his mind empty, he knew The Dark Lord was satisfied.

"You have seen Dumbledore."

"I have... very frequently," he added through the cutting silence. "He has sent a guard to Kings Cross Station to protect Harry Potter."

"Why?"

"He believes you will attack the boy when he passes through the barrier into muggle London. I imagine they will escort the boy home with his relatives."

"Does Dumbledore really think me that much of a fool?" The Dark Lord laughed, turning his back on him to stare into the fire. Severus took this moment to readjust his knees, wincing when he moved his injured shoulder. "I am disappointed with his actions, Severus. I thought better of him. Age makes you paranoid."

"Do you plan to attack soon, my Lord?"

"Don't be stupid, Severus. You and I both know that Dumbledore is not as foolish as he leads you to believe. I will wait and bid my time … patiently" he turned to face Severus again, summoning a chair from across the room and sitting straight backed in it. "Look at me, Severus. How do I look?"

"Composed , my Lord," Severus chanced, knowing too well he would be punished for anything unacceptable.

"Composed? That is a new one." Severus almost held his breath, unable to read the tone of voice. "Our friend Lucius said I looked powerful, while Walden said I looked strong and determined. They all stuttered over their words, but eventually mumbled something or other about my abilities."

"That is very astute of them," Severus admitted, raising his head again to meet the other mans piercing red eyes.

"You, Severus, are more observant than all of them. You tell me not what you think, rather what you know I want to hear. I need not hear of my strength and my power – I know too well of my abilities. I want to remain composed as you say, Severus. I want to use my time wisely and efficiently. I hope I can trust you to use yours in the same way."

"Of course my, Lord."

"Prove your loyalties, Severus Snape. Prove them now." The Dark Lord pointed to a door, which flew open to reveal a body, lying bound on the floor. He smiled at Severus, motioning with his hand and adding, "For your pleasure."

He swallowed as the body levitated toward him. He recognised the woman as Imelda Xavier, head of one of the Department of Muggle Allegiance firms at the Ministry of Magic. She had recently proposed that all young witches and wizards sample muggle schooling before turning 11. Severus had outwardly laughed at the notion, but later admitted to himself a taste of life without magic would do many of them good.

"Are you hesitating?" The Dark Lord whispered, his eyes now narrowing upon Severus' face.

Severus took his wand, unable to train his gaze from hers. He feared that his eyes betrayed him; he worried that they flickered with fear, pity and regret. Despite his shoulder shooting pain throughout his body, he kept his injured arm steady, using the discomfort as distraction.

Imelda Xavier writhed against her bonds, a hoarse scream gurgling in the back of her throat as Severus whispered '_Crucio_' over and over. He found his own stomach churning with the strangled cries, his arm beginning to shake each time her legs jerked and another bone creaked and cracked. Until...

"Do it," The Dark Lord hissed.

Severus obeyed, failing to hide the relief that washed over his features. In a flash of green he ended Imelda Xavier's suffering. Her body remained afloat, hanging limply in the air and short beads of blood dripped at his feet. He stepped back, lowering his wand, not daring to make a sound but promising himself he would suffer for his deeds in the next life.

"Your shoulder, Severus. Come forward."

He did so, dropping to one knee and glancing at The Dark Lord's grey fingers as they peeled back the folds of his robes to reveal the scorching wound. For a moment, the grey fingers traced the outline of the wound, irritating the already infected skin and then he chuckled, raising his wand and whispering an incantation. Severus saw the skin tighten and seal, the blackness residing and the pain slowly leaving his body. He fingered the thin red line that remained with all cursed scars, and mentally catalogued it along with the many others on his body.

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Next time you will not be so foolish. Leave now."

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Severus was out of practise and it showed. Having returned to Grimmauld Place, he got no further than the foot of the stairs and vomited. It was a relief but agonising, and with each fresh wave of nausea he saw her face writhe and contort in his minds eye. The sound of choked screaming that he knew could be blood curdling, sent another panic over him and he empty reached. He thought he could hear her bones creaking and cracking all over again, and he almost believed himself insane until he saw a pair of feet rushing down the stairs and felt the owners hands on his shoulders.

"Breath slowly... calmly. In and out. You're safe now."

He nearly leaned into the owners hands, desperate for any kind of contact to distract from the pain in his stomach, chest and mind. As usual, stubbornness took hold and he shrugged the hands away, quickly clearing the pool of vomit with his wand.

"Get off me!" he spat, recoiling into the hallway.

Remus held both hands up in defence. "Don't shoot the messenger," he sighed, running one hand warily through his hair. Severus noted the dark rims around his eyes, they stood in stark contrast to the red ones he had seen around Imelda Xavier's eyes. He almost didn't hear Remus talking as he watched the golden orbs flicker in there sockets. He had never noticed them before, probably because they had either been avoiding his gaze or passing insults. "Dumbledore had to leave - something about stolen cauldrons." Remus' mouth dropped to a lopsided smirk.

Severus grunted. "You're in charge then?" he quipped.

"Not really. More of a messenger boy than anything else."

"Spit it out then."

Remus shrugged. "He wanted me to tell you that all went well at King's Cross. There were no suspicious characters about and Harry is now safely, or should I say willingly, with his relatives."

"I'm delighted for him," Severus drawled. "Excuse me while I deal with matters of importance." He pushed passed Remus, taking the stairs with force and almost stopped when Remus spoke next.

"You're an honourable man. I can tell."


	5. V

_I am officially on mid-term break for Halloween. Can I get an Amen? AMEN. _

_I'm going to stick with keeping the story positioned to the left for now. We'll see how that pans out._

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Severus had not been expecting the question, so when Remus moved closer to him than usual, he stared back in a very confused fashion. The werewolf was daring, pulling his paper and mug with him and stretching his legs under the table. He was twitchy this morning. Severus noted how his shoulders jiggled now and again, and his fingers never rested; even while they clasped his mug, they still drummed a beat against the sides. Severus glowered.

"What?" he snapped. There was a burn in the back of his mind that reminded him that the wolf had crossed into his personal space last night.

Remus smiled softly nevertheless. "I said, how are you feeling?" and he continued to scrape the burnt pieces from his toast. "I can never make toast properly. It always burns badly around the edges."

Remus held the toast up between two fingers, turning it this way and that, and squinting at it with offence. Severus narrowed his eyes, tempted to rise and leave only for the opposition his stomach put up in the form of rumbling loudly. In response, Remus pushed the butter toward him, nodding at the dry toast on his plate.

"Eat. It'll make you feel better."

"Is that your signature line, Lupin?" Severus snapped, accepting the butter despite himself and nearly scolding his actions. "Because I've heard you say it at least 3 times in the years I've known you."

"You noticed?"

Severus glared. "You don't blend in much, do you?" he spat, eyeing the loose robes that drooped around the other mans shoulders. They were far more patched than Severus remembered; he was sure the cloak was the very same he had worn two years previous. And because the shame of being found vulnerable by Lupin still burned strongly, he could not resist goading him, so continued with, "Black hasn't been treating you well, has he? With that small fortune in his bank one would imagine he'd treat his, ah … _friend_."

He saw how Remus flinched only slightly, and a part of him spasmed with guilt. He could not put his finger on the emotion that twisted his gut - shame, maybe? Who was he to talk of riches and rewards, when he himself had looked no better many years ago.

The soft smile on the werewolf's worn face widened and he shrugged. "Between you and me, I don't think the Black family has much left in terms of a fortune."

Severus wondered how he could make that smile disappear. It was unsettling and something else, something he could not quite place. He was not familiar with foreign feelings as these last few years had given him little to feel for.

"They make up for it in legacy," he replied, surprising himself and finally scraping some butter across his now very cold toast.

Remus snorted. "We spend so much time skimming the top of the trees, that sometimes, we forget to look beneath the canopy and at the beauty hidden within."

With that sentiment, he banished his mug and half eaten toast, and rose from the table, leaving Severus to pool over those words and there meaning.

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The kitchen was tranquil and deserted before the meeting. He knew it would not last long and that soon, Order members old and new would arrive. This was been the day Severus at one point had long awaited. He remembered well the time he had sworn loyalty to Dumbledore, though it pained to think of such things and angered him further when Dumbledore had denied him access to Order information.

"_I can be useful. Don't you see!" he pleaded, following Dumbledore along the fourth floor corridor. _

"_You must be patient, Severus - persistent."_

"_How much more persistent can this be?" he whined, throwing his hands in the air. "I've followed your advice, carried out every task that you have set me and even wormed my way into the Ministry of Magic for you."_

"_And still, I do not trust you."_

_Severus halted, mouth open and insults ready at the tip of his tongue, only Dumbledore got there first. "You still skulk near Knockturn Alley," the Headmaster continued, turning at last to face him. "You have been buying relics and storing them. You have kept alliance with your old friends, Severus. I see you receive post every week. Who from? What are you discussing?"_

"_N-nothing of importance," he stammered, looking at him with searching eyes._

"_You have a long way to go in earning my trust. I do not forget what you have already proven. But at times, I fear you have gone too far to be saved."_

"_I couldn't just erase my past in one night, Albus!" he moaned. "They would have killed me had I deserted them after His downfall." He allowed Dumbledore to penetrate his thoughts, dropping every ward he had worked on building. "I've been writing Lucius Malfoy," he admitted. "He's got a son, too. You probably already know."_

"_The same age as Lily's-"_

"_Don't!" he spat, then swallowed tightly before he continued. "Lucius came out of this better than us all. He's got a loving wife, a child, a fortune, and he's working on building himself a name in the Ministry of Magic… he invited me to gain one too."_

"_You must learn to trust me before I trust you," Dumbledore said and Severus wondered if there was a hint of pity in his tone. "That is the price one pays for their deadly deeds."_

It irked him to think of those times, more so now that Dumbledore had arrived first and taken a seat next to Severus. "You are looking well," he remarked, to which Severus grunted. "You are troubled, no doubt. I think I know why."

"I was never good enough for your Order, Albus," he muttered, narrowing his eyes when Remus and Sirius came down the stairs. He couldn't help notice though how Remus stumbled on the last step, only saving himself against Sirius' shoulders in time. "What makes you think I'm good enough now?" He knew he was being childlike.

Dumbledore nodded, blue eyes sparkling in a way Severus knew meant he would entertain his ramblings. "That is a fair point," he admitted finally. "But, you must remember last time, you had been keeping secrets from me."

"They hardly counted as _secrets_," he bit, following Sirius' movements as he playfully shoved Remus away from the biscuit tin. Their friendly behaviour made Severus' stomach twist.

"I have been thinking," Dumbledore said, pulling a tin of sweets from his pocket. "Bulls eye? There no lemon drop, but my throat has been dry with allergies these days. I just can't bring myself to re-home Mr. Boots, not in his old age. I feel only he understands why my knees ache in the morning. Poppy has been relentlessly brewing up a storm to ease the itch -"

"Quit trying to _sweeten _me up, Albus," he hissed, proud of his pun and waved the tin away. He bore no mood to hear tales of Dumbledore's 15-year-old cat. Sirius had surrendered the biscuit tin to Remus, who carried it to the table. "I'll brew your allergy potion in the morning. Just don't tell Poppy. She was always too insulted when my potions outdid hers."

Dumbledore chortled, popping a sweet and pocketed the tin. "That is not exactly what I was getting at. Though I will gladly accept your offer," he smiled, then waved his hand and motioned a confused looking Remus toward them. Sirius eyed them warily. "I was actually talking about Remus here."

"A werewolf with fur allergies?" he smirked, cocking one eyebrow. "Now that is irony at its best."

"Severus," Albus said in a warning tone. "As I understand, you have the use of both arms now. Also, I'm sure that you are itching to brew up a storm and Remus, I also am one hundred percent sure of, is in need of one of your particular potions."

Severus gave him a look similar to that of having stepped on a slug. "You can't be serious!"

Remus wrung his hands quietly. "Professor Dumbledore, please… there's no need. There really is a perfectly good cellar below us."

"Well, Severus, if you think that you are out of practice too much…. I shall leave you with some time to improve," Dumbledore added, nodding politely to Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt as they crossed into the kitchen and seated themselves away from the conversation.

Severus' face darkened. "I can brew anything, Albus. Regardless of the environment-" and he cast a filthy look in Sirius' direction, "I am sufficiently capable," and then he cursed his mouth when Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in a way of signing a silent contract.

Before he had time to reply, Dumbledore stood in greeting to a group of people who entered. Severus was too heated with torment to note the familiar faces, especially those that examined him with prude eyes from a distance. He had not noticed either, how Sirius Black had cornered Remus or the way the werewolf's eyes flickered to his face every few minutes.

The meeting was mundane and too sociable for Severus' liking. Albus had described it in his speech as more of a meet and greet. "We must all know one-another. We must all _trust _one-another," he had preached. It annoyed Severus when he noticed more than one pair of eyes flicker in his direction at that part and he took it upon himself to take note of how long Moody's magical eye followed his movements - 30 minutes was his record.

"It's good to see you up and about, Professor Snape," Mrs. Weasley said, patting his forearm gently. She pulled a neatly wrapped parcel from her husbands hands, whose eyes wondered in every direction but toward Severus. "A slice of my own treacle tart. I'm sure you'll need something to brighten your mood in this … _house_."

Severus smirked when she ran her finger along the dusty shelves behind his head. He had the impression she struggled to call it a home. "I owe you my thanks," he told her, accepting the parcel with no intention to eat it afterwards.

"We all need one another now," she told him, nodding softly before leaving with the crowd of others.

He remained seated for a moment, watching their backs and cradling the parcel. He had no real hostility toward the Weasley family, it was more their kindness made him feel awkward, and to be honest, there really were too many of them. When he allowed himself soften just briefly, he would admit that they really were not all that bad.

"Severus," Remus said quietly, approaching him from behind. Severus glanced up at the man; his fingers were coiled around one another, squeezing noticeably and his left leg jiggled enough for Severus to glance down at it.

"What?"

"Thank you," he sighed.

"I'm not doing this for _you_," Severus spat, his nose wrinkling up at the twitching wolf.

"Regardless, thank you. I stand by what I said last night."

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_Guest: Show yourself! I never put much thought into Snirius, but now that you mention it, if you check back to my profile you'll see I've started something small that is Snirius centered. It's called _'**Dog Days**'.

_NatheRiver: Here is the more that you have requested! Thanks for showing up :D_

_Mystical G Panther: I won't lie - seeing your review in my inbox made me remember I needed to update this! Thanks for that and for being here !_

_Death Eater: As brave as I like to think I am, I wouldn't want to be around Voldemort either! And I absolutely agree with you about each of us wearing masks that sometimes need to be broken. _

_Second Impressions Chapter Five - Complete. _


	6. VI

_I again want to thank all of my reviewers and followers, and everyone else who has taken the time to be here for this little story. This is me preparing for the bigger world of Harry Potter fanfiction. I needed to get back into the groove of things and I'm doing it through this. So, thank you for coming along for the ride!_

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"_The waves beneath hissed vehemently. As he perched delicately on the thin line between life and death, he could feel the spray of foam reach his cheeks. Away in the distance, a roll of thunder echoed across the opaque skies. There was a presence near; he could feel it moving behind him. Though his eyes were closed, he knew it lurked..._

Severus jerked awake. The spiraling fumes from a brewing cauldron near him had lulled him, and from the way his shadow illuminated across the walls, he could tell that it was late in the evening. While his heartbeat returned to a steady pace, he wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow, and ruffled his dark hair.

Standing to check the cauldron, he gave it a quick stir and found himself captivated by the perfectly spherical cerulean bubbles of Wolfesbane potion as it simmered. It had been sometime since he had brewed a potion of this complexity; there had been little to satisfy his brewing needs the previous year, save for a few pepperups at Christmas and a case of anti-boil ointments after a common room mutiny among the Slytherin's.

It annoyed him that Albus had tricked him into agreeing to make the potion in the first place. Severus had worked hard over the years to avoid the Headmasters manipulating ways, but there was always something about his tactics that Severus could never master. It did not matter that he was a war spy back then and for the foreseeable future; it did not make any difference which officials he had deceived or how many lies he had got away with in the face of The Dark Lord. At the end of the day, there was no one more meddling than Albus Dumbedore and yet, despite it all, people still liked the old coot. Though Severus had his suspicions that people liked Albus because he had this irritating way of fooling you through words. It was only when you left his company did you begin to question his rantings and by then it was too late.

Sighing, he adjusted the heat under the cauldron and leaned heavily on both hands against the table. The steam that coiled around his face relaxed him enough to clear his mind. He inhaled the fumes, each smell tickling his nasal passage and only to the trained nose could one pin point each ingredient.

"Pampering yourself in potions, Snape?"

Sirius Black... there was little of Severus' past that remained and for that he was grateful. Just over a year ago, he remembered it well; his one chance to feel appreciated, to hand Black over for the treacherous mongrel that he was, had been swiped from beneath his feet, and adding insult to injury, his past had bubbled to the surface.

"It makes sense now."

The back of his neck flushed and the knife he had been toying with dug uncomfortably against his palm. He looked up at Sirius who stood smuggly in the door frame. Severus noticed for the first time the vast improvements in the mans physique since he last saw him ragged and worn in the Shrieking Shack. He was clean, almost presentable, some might even say attractive, and inwardly Severus cringed at his own minds ramblings. But there was something odd about Sirius now; there was something in those once maddened eyes that had died – and it was then Severus noted the tumbler of auburn liquid he clutched in his hand.

"You have become a pathetic drunk, Black," he smirked. "No surprise."

"You'd know all about pathetic, Snape. Look at you – Albus Dumbledore has you squashed so far beneath his thumb you don't even realise how much of a lapdog you are." Sirius crossed into the room. Severus was taller by an un-measurable amount, but he knew himself that Sirius Black was un-calculated and down right dirty. "You're not welcome here, Snivellus."

"Lupin is looking a little tragic these days, almost as pathetic as you. What happened to a dog being mans best friend?" he spat and took pleasure in the way the other man flinched.

"DON'T YOU-"

"_Sirius_, let it go!" Remus warned from the doorway. The younger man stood between them, separating the tips of their noses by a meter or more with his arms outstretched. "Go to bed, Sirius."

"I won't let _him_ belittle you, Moony. He hasn't much to brag about. He's a _murderer_!"

Remus sighed, the palm of his hand still pressed against Severus' chest, who could not help notice how square the werewolf's hand was. It fit neatly between his pecs, putting enough force against his breastbone to make him have lean back to breath. His arms were long and in the too small shirt that he wore, Severus could see the outline of muscles. When he noticed his own hand suspended mid air and almost reaching to touch them, he pulled back and stumbled against the table.

Sirius snorted, then pushed Remus' hand away. "Where do your loyalties lie these days, Remus?" he barked.

Remus lowered his head, the hand on Severus' chest drooping to his side. "Please, Sirius, old friend. Not tonight."

Severus looked on bewildered. He was unsure of the scene that had unfolded before him. Had he seen a crack in the foundation? Actually, now that he put some thought into it, was there much of a foundation anyway? His memory had never let him down, not even after all these years had his mind faltered in detail. While his school days were at times memories he wished he could forget, he delved into them for a moment, and remembered well this one sighting:

"_Lighten up, Remus. He's fine!" Sirius laughed, displaying the embarrassed third year with both hands. _

_The small boy hung lopsided in the air, a pair of pink rabbit ears growing from his head. _

"_Sirius. Come on, man. Knock it off," Remus warned, removing his glance from the boy with a look of shame. _

"_Ah, Remus. You're no fun these days!" Sirius scoffed, messily removing the levitation charm from the boy, who toppled to the floor and scurried across the cobblestone. _

"I'm sorry about that," Remus said, shaking his head and exhaling thickly. He positioned himself next to Severus on the table, who was by now staring with a look of understanding at the spot Sirius had previously stood. He had not even recognised the shift in the table as Remus fidgeted to get comfortable. There was something stirring in the back of his mind, and he hoped to all the God's that it wasn't an awakening and especially not a dawning of dormant curiosity. What made him speak up, he didn't know, but he felt obliged and that was not something Severus Snape felt very often.

"He's giving you a hard time, isn't he?"

Remus chuckled, but tightened his arms across his chest. "To be honest, and I hope this won't weaken your already fragile judgement of me, but he's being a dickhead."

It was Severus' turn to snort and the sound surprised him. When had he become this loose around Lupin? A part of him wanted to stiffen up and throw the man out, tamper with his potion and then force feed him the poison. But, and Severus was down right annoyed with himself at the realisation, another part of him was curious as to how Lupin was fairing. Severus had found himself watching his movements the last few days.

Through the break in the curtains, the waning sunlight cast a flushed flaxen highlight across Remus' features. It was the kind of light that Severus was sure would make his own skin look sickly. This light though made Remus look alive and Severus was unsure whether it was a trick of sun down or something else. It was then that he spotted it. It was in his eyes, a glint of foreign emotion, a flicker in his gaze. Severus could not explain why he had noted these changes, and he was not sure why he was fixating on them now; but he had and he was, and he could not forget them.

"He was always a dickhead," Severus declared at last, turning to check the potion and readjust the heat. "What you see in Black is beyond me."

"The same thing that you saw in Lucius Malfoy," Remus smiled, pushing himself from the table and staring at him. "Acceptance."

Severus shot him a poisonous look. "I don't care to hear sentiments," he hissed, a sudden frost developing. "I will bottle this mix for next month. Other than that, you should get going."

"It is getting late," Remus agreed lightly, but Severus could not make out the tone in his voice as he silently closed the door.

After that, Severus could not concentrate on brewing anymore, so he bottled the Wolfesbane and called it a day. He shed his robes on his way to the bed, hanging them on the back of the door as always. The bed had by now molded to his body: broad shoulders, slim waist and long legs. Letting himself fall into the cool sheets was soothing for a moment, but the silence eventually crept upon him. It was deafening, almost maddening. Above him he could hear no movement, and he was sure that Sirius had by now drunken himself to death - though he did not not hold out on that - or had at the least drunken himself into a deep sleep. There was a slight pitter patter on the landing outside his bedroom door, which was soon followed by the mumbling of Kreacher, who had taken to calling him '_Curious stranger. Mistress Black would not trust him. Too curious.'._

He pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes... and shamefully, Remus Lupin's face popped into his frame. He couldn't help it. The mans lively look had left an imprint on his mind and he could remember most of the curves in his face, many of the scars too. His eyes had glistened when he looked at him... surely a trick of the light. Cursing his thoughts away, he rolled to one side, shutting his mind and clearing his thoughts. He did not have time to think of these things. They were not important in the greater scheme of things. There was a war to be fought.

-.-

Despite all of his debating and arguing with himself. Despitevthe amount of times he had swung his legs from the bed, only to quickly get back under the cover, it was 6 o'clock in the morning and Severus found himself in the kitchen; a row of three tiny potion bottles on the table near by. He woke that morning after a restless sleep. It seemed that every minute he slept, he spent five more minutes twisting and turning. The mind was a funny thing, it was often the most treacherous organ in the body, and that night Severus' mind had thought of nothing but the four legged creature he knew roamed the basement below, probably barreling himself at the wards to be released and run wild. Regardless of how hard he had tried to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, the same kept recurring ten fold.

He ignored the rambling of his mind - _what am I doing? Up at this hour during the holidays mending that blasted werewolf, that's what. Why? Why? To keep Albus off my back, that's wh_y - and positioned the bottles of Invigorating potion once more where Remus would clearly see them, before retiring to his room where he hoped to salvage just one more hour.

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_You might have noticed that I've been posting a lot of one shots and drabbles lately. I can't get enough of those. Also, The Walking Dead anyone? Just sayin'!_

_Second Impressions Chapter Six - Complete. _

_Happy reading y'all. Don't forget to write your own stories guys. Keeping the magic alive is up to you. _


	7. VII

_A massive thanks to all of you who are sticking with this story. You are the ones who keep the magic alive. I don't know about you all, but... Christmas isn't far off now ... it's never too early, is it? I want to know how you all are. Tell me: How are you? I hope you're well, I really do!_

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It was the first time since he had arrived to Grimmauld Place that Severus met the old hag on the wall. He had been warned enough to avoid her portrait and to "_just tip-toe around her. She has a great set of ears, bless her_." Dumbledore had a way of 'blessing' everyone, a way of making even the most wretched of creatures seem redeemable. Severus often wondered if that is what Dumbledore had done to him; perhaps he had made him seem redeemable in some ways. It was no secret amongst the Hogwarts staff who Severus was … what Severus was. That night in the infirmary when he had shown Fudge his arm had spread like wildfire. As Albus used to say "_It's a complete secret, so naturally, the whole schools knows._"

Mrs. Black's portrait was deemed an inconvenience in the house as it meant everyone would need to be quiet in the corridors and surrounding rooms, for fear she should wake and start a tyrant of abuse. When Severus met her, he was half way down the stairs, eyes trained on an interesting article in the Daily Prophet: _Potter: Potty? _He had found the paper on his bed when he woke, and suspected it had been delivered through the crack in the bedroom window as he slept. What could have been another day confined within the walls of this house had slowly taken a turn for the better, and he sneered the entire way down the stairs.

"_Filth! Half-breeds! Wretched animals in my home!"_

Severus glanced away from the paper when he heard the shrieking, and drew his wand when a shrill hoot and hysterical flapping followed. Allowing his wand to lead him, he slowly rounded the corner and lowered it with a bemused smirk when he saw Remus Lupin fighting with the heavy black curtains that hid her portrait.

"_Werewolf! Filthy claws tainting the most noble house of Black!"_

The man struggled to heave the curtains across the poll, which seemed to resist his tugging despite his greatest efforts. Above him, a brown and white speckled eagle owl paced the length of the poll, flapping its long wings and squawked loudly. Mrs. Black shrieked louder with each piercing wail from the owl and Remus, who was now a light shade of red had begun to argue back.

"Quiet you old hag!" he bellowed, heaving one of the curtains across.

"_Touching me! Away werewolf, away! Filthy paws tainting my possessions!"_

Severus rolled the paper and tucked it beneath one arm, then whistled lightly. The owl seized its shrieking and with one heavy flap, landed on his extended forearm. It hooted up at him, flicking its head rapidly between the portrait and his face. Severus rubbed one finger along the owls beak, only half tempted to release him back onto the poll just as Remus managed to haul the second curtain closed.

"So it's yours," Remus panted, shoving his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "Sirius let it in this morning and I've been trying to catch it since. He hid on the book shelves in the kitchen."

Severus smirked, silently praising the owl for its efforts. He wondered when the owl would arrive, it had been some weeks since he had last seen it, and had hoped nothing bad had happened.

"What's its name?" Remus continued, watching the owl hoot softly beneath Severus' touch.

"Truble," Severus grinned, lowering his hand when he realised what he had been doing.

"The name seems fitting. Who owns him then?" Remus extended an arm to pet Truble, almost getting to feel those soft and silky feathers, but the bird squawked at him loudly. Somewhat insulted, he tucked his hands in his pockets, eyeing the bird warily.

"I do. He was a gift," Severus mused, allowing the owl to walk the length of his arm and perch on his previously injured shoulder. His talons dug against his skin and he was sure there would be markings left.

"From whom?" Remus questioned. His gaze rested heavily on Severus'. His eyes seemed calmer than the night of the full moon; there was no wild flicker behind the soft golden hue. This time there was something different. There was an emotion behind the hue that Severus couldn't explain, no matter how steady he kept his own gaze, he couldn't name the look in Lupin's eyes.

He had not seen Lupin since the night of the full moon. Instead, he had locked himself in his room for two days, pouring over text books in search of something he could not explain. _An excuse_, his mind had told him. He had scoffed the thought away; what excuse could he possibly need? _You're avoiding him_, his mind taunted. And that second thought was as preposterous as the first, he had decided. There was nothing to avoid, there were no excuses needed and even if there were, he was clever enough to know what they were.

So he glared at him instead and in an icy tone he snapped, "Don't question me, Lupin."

"I didn't mean to intrude," Remus explained, then sighed so softly Severus wasn't sure if he had really heard it or not.

He found himself examining the scars on the others mans face. They were long, thin, and the two on his jaw were perfectly symmetrical. There was a fresher one just below his bottom lip, no bigger than an inch, but starkly red and still raw looking. They didn't flaw his features though and Severus thought in fact that they added something to the mans look. When Remus smiled up at him, he had been about to ask what salve he was using to heal the scar, because he was pretty sure it hadn't worked as effectively as it could have; but when he saw the smile, it made him feel something… something strange, something unusual, something he wasn't sure how to respond to.

"I must thank you," Remus said softly and Severus found that he was grateful the werewolf had kept talking. "You left me those potions the morning after. They worked a charm on me. I felt as right as rain after the first one."

"No problem," he muttered stupidly, truly unsure of how to respond. For the first time in a long time he felt appreciated, though he wasn't sure he was ready to admit it just yet; certainly not to anyone, definitely not out loud, not even in a conversation with himself. Yet there he stood, staring back at the wolf whose smile was growing by the minute, and whose gaze had not once yet left his own, and all the while he felt _something_… and it scared him.

"There's a meeting tonight," Remus told him, chancing another go at petting Truble, who again snapped his beak back at him. Severus had not even noticed his own hand reaching to give Truble a tap on the beak. "Business this time, or so Dumbledore said. You know how he is. Oh, and before I forget, this came for you." He dipped his hand into his pockets and pulled a neatly folded letter from within.

Severus couldn't sustain the groan that escaped his throat when he saw the Hogwarts seal melted onto the letter. He had almost forgotten that there really was no rest from grading papers over the summer. There were always report cards to fill in, letters to write, exams to grade and post. There was no rest for the wicked, ever. He reached for the letter with a sigh, and the fingers of his left hand brushed against Remus' wrist, sending a quick flare of electricity through his body. He gasped, pulling his hand back and clenching his fingers.

"Is it-"

"No," he snapped, plucking the letter from Remus' hand and pocketing it. He moved passed him, careful to avoid contact this time and headed for the kitchen, his long robes leaving a trail in the dusty floor behind him. He wasn't sure what that was, in fact he wasn't sure what exactly he wasn't sure about. He had never liked Lupin, not in anyway, but then again, he had never hated Lupin either. Yes, the man was a follower and hardly a leader by his standards, but there was something in that look, something in the way their eyes met and the way their gaze lingered longer and longer each time.

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Severus narrowed his eyes 20 minutes into the meeting when Dumbledore stood from his chair and pointed directly at him. He shot the headmaster a look, one which worked to no avail because Dumbledore knew perfectly well how to deflect the most gruesome of glances. In retaliation, he shot everyone at the table his most poisonous look, saving one extra dagger for Black's face.

"It is the beginning of a new era," Dumbledore spoke, and a heavy pause followed with enough time for Severus to rub his left arm beneath the table. It had begun to prickle again. "There are spies everywhere. They are hidden in every nook and cranny and in every wandering eye. The coming months will determine who is truly on our side. For now, I must reassure you in letting you know that we too have spies."

Severus noted a few glance awkwardly in his directions; all eyes held the same thing - mistrust. They didn't trust him and he didn't blame then; he couldn't blame them. He wondered too if Dumbledore truly trusted him. He felt at times there were things that the older wizard kept from him: a hesitant pause before he would continue, a fleeting glance and that degrading twinkle.

There it was again, that twinkle in his eye that Severus could never truly read because it could mean so many different things. While Dumbledore carried on with a heavy flow, Severus stared stone faced at the kitchen door, longing to flee and never look back. That was what was expected of him, he knew that. He saw it on their faces, he heard it in their whispers and he read it on their minds. They trusted him no more than he trusted them.

"Severus, it is futile that Lord Voldemort trusts you," Dumbledore urged.

"He has chosen to believe me for now, Headmaster. Though I cannot say for how long that will continue."

"Have you heard anything lately?"

"I have not been called since the last time. He has told me that he is going to bid his time. He will work slowly and move slowly. He has been aware of my absence from Hogwarts before the end of term. He said he has a source."

"A source?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing him sharply. A few mutters erupted around the table. Severus ignored them. He had already told Dumbledore all of this and wished the wretched man would just summarise it for the fools around the table.

"Yes. He did not say whom but I do not believe it to be anyone of a greatdanger. I believe it could be Draco Malfoy updating Lucius on the ins and outs of the castle. He would have obviously been aware of my absence."

"Or maybe you are a liar!" Sirius spat, eyeing him up and down with pure hatred. "How do we know?!

"Are you really that _stupid_, Black?" Severus hissed.

"Enough!" Dumbledore ordered, holding a hand toward Sirius and then nodded to Severus. "Continue."

"I have led him to believe I was staying in Hogsmeade, as you know," he uttered through clenched teeth. "The Hogs Head. Other than that, there has been nothing else."

"For someone in his close circles, you don't know a lot, Snape!" Mad-Eye accused, pointing a grubby finger at him.

"I do not push matters with The Dark Lord," Severus bit back. "I take what I can get and push no further than I need to. While he trusts me now, he could at any moment turn on me. My errors are still fresh in his mind."

"You seem to make a lot of those, Snape! Too many for my liking. I know your-"

"Thank you , Alastor!" Dumbledore warned in a low tone, seating himself again. He cleared his throat before continuing. " There are difficult times ahead for all of us. It is important that we practice trust and communication. There is no room for mutiny amongst ourselves. We are as of right now a dying cause."

Severus glowered around the table. The few that were experienced eyed Dumbledore with concern, a knowing about them. They had lived this tale before, they had seen the losses and counted their casualties, too. The others looked up at Dumbledore fresh faced and attentive. He envied them in ways, they were unwise, unknowing. _Not for long_, he thought. The time would come when they too would sit in his shoes, a face etched with years of hardship. They too would look and feel like cold stone and in that moment, Severus truly felt sorry for them.

The meeting continued in the same fashion. There was little to report and Dumbledore spent most of it devising ideas and handing out orders. There was a lot of encouragement on Dumbledore's part and from Sirius Black too; many of them were rallied up and ready to go, it had been a long time since the Wizarding World had seen such a thing to unite against. Unfortunately, thanks to the Ministry and it's corrupt powers, Severus knew that the Wizarding World would not unite. Unity was not the publics strong point, Dumbledore had preached… or something like that.

As the meeting closed to a finish, a flurry of people left together. He remained in his seat though, watching as Dumbledore escorted them away and smiled gracefully as he always did these days. Severus was close to losing focus now as a banter had broken out between Molly Weasley and Sirius Black….something about the werewolf. Severus drew his attention to the far side of the table, where Sirius was sitting straight backed and facing an equally fierce looking Molly.

"I'm worried, Sirius, as you too should be!"

"Molly, I don't need lecturing. Remus has been my friend for decades now, incarceration or not! And I know him like I know the back of my hand. It's not that there isn't anywhere else for him to go, it's more that I am _refusing _to allow him to go anywhere else."

"I have children to think of, Sirius."

"And I have Harry!" he barked, rising to his haunches to match her stance.

Remus stood alongside him and pressed one hand on Sirius' shoulder, whispered something in his ear, which seemed to further infuriate Black, who shot a deathly glare in Severus' direction.

"Molly, I am of no danger to you or your children," Remus assured, raising both palms to her. Severus admired the man's patience for a moment and admitted if Mrs. Weasley, as much as she had helped him, would have been hexed 20 something feet in the air if she spoke to him in that tone.

"And you have Severus to thank for that," he continued, pointing down the table at him. "Severus has been making me a potion that keeps me in my own mind and keeps all you safe."

"I still think if we could just put you som-"

"That's wonderful, Remus!" Arthur beamed, clapping both hands, and slowly edged his wife toward the fire place. "Did you hear that Molly, everything is fine now. Let's get going, shall we?"

It took some time for the kitchen to clear enough for Severus to feel comfortable again. Sirius disappeared into the cellar where Severus knew he kept his wine, and that left Remus standing alone near the door. Severus could tell he was debating whether or not to leave; the wolf cast one glance toward the cellar and another toward Severus. With an almost defeated sigh, he crossed the kitchen to boil some water.

Severus ignored him. His arm was bothering him enough to knead it with his right fist in full view of, Lupin. He wasn't coping with pain as well as he used to, he had grown soft and it angered him to admit it.

"You never let me explain my comment that night," Remus blurted out, and when Severus acknowledged him with an incredulous look, he was standing with two cups of tea, one in each hand.

"What are you talking about, Lupin?" he grumbled.

Remus stretched across the table to place a cup of tea in front of him and spent a moment too long hesitating, before he sat opposite the potion master, with the most bewildered look on his face. Severus was sure that his own features matched the mans perfectly, because he was no more aware of why Remus would bother to sit across from him, never mind make him tea.

"That night when you were sick in the hallway," Remus explained, his tone laced with hesitance. Severus couldn't fight the scowl back.

"Whatever your intentions are, Lupin-"

"You are honourable, Severus. I don't care what anyone else thinks; not Sirius, not Mad-Eye, not anyone. When you were speaking to Dumbledore about your seventh years, you said that you hoped to have shown them the right way. I…I think that is honourable of you. I think you invest more time into your students than you are given credit for."

Severus lapsed into a silence, his eyes no longer narrowed and his brows knitted together. A part of him wanted to string Lupin up, it was the irrational part of him; the part that shut people out, brought the walls down and replaced the softer of his features with stern scowls and sarcastic remarks. He wanted oh so bad, to reach across the table to the cup the man held and to hit him with it, right upside the head.

Instead, he opened his mouth to reply, then quickly closed it, with a shake of his head. "You do not know what it is to be responsible for them," he almost whispered. He wanted to say that, he found a part of his wall crumbling and he wanted badly to tell Remus what it was like. He found himself digging his fingers into the flesh of his left arm, anything to dull the prickle. Severus had been an open person one time. There had been a time in his life, way back in the day, way back before all this, when he had had a friend. _A friend_. They were strange words now, even to think.

Dumbledore was his friend, or at least that is what the old man said. But Severus believed that Dumbledore was his friend for all the wrong reasons. Dumbledore was his friend because he had to be; because he was valuable to have around, a resource, a useful tool. Dumbledore was his friend because Dumbledore had to learn to be his friend. He would have never picked him as a friend by choice - at least that is what Severus believed.

"They are unique," he finally answered in what he hoped was a casual tone, and not one dripping with emotion.

"They're so…" Remus paused to bite his lower lip and Severus took a moment to watch the way it stretched the fresh cut. Remus' eyes flickered to the wall behind Severus in a thoughtful manner, and then back to meet his own gaze. "I cannot find the right words."

"Cold, cruel, sarcastic … so me?" Severus offered, and Remus stared at him for a moment, before a laugh burst from his mouth. His laugh… Severus wasn't sure why that laugh sounded nice. It was soft, surprisingly; Severus figured it would have been loud, maybe like a bark or a raspy cough. No, Remus Lupin's laugh was tame.

Severus surprised himself when a small smile crept across his own lips, but he caught it in time, hoping that Remus didn't see it. He wasn't sure why he was hiding smiles, he wasn't sure of a lot of things lately.

"Something like that," Remus said when he had stopped. He fingered the cut on his lip and winced when it started to bleed. He frowned at the stain on his finger. "These things are nightmare to heal, you know. Look at how small it is, yet it's bloody futile!"

"I've got a salve you can use," Severus offered before he could stop himself, and figured now that he had lost control of his tongue that he might as well keep talking. "It's something I use myself for potion mishaps. There are a lot of those when you teach potions," he added, tempted to rant about Neville Longbottom and saying a quick prayer the boy would fail his potion O. next year.

Remus smiled at him again. There it was, that smile. Severus almost wished he could say something humorous, just to hear him laugh again. _Stop it! _He scolded himself and frowned at his actions. What had he become while cooped up in this house? Before he could walk himself into anymore corners, he stood quickly, too quick in fact and knocked his tea cup.

"I have things to do," he said roughly, leaving the cup upturned and swept from the room.

He shouldn't have looked back, he knew better than that. But he did and it annoyed him to see Remus lower his head into his palms, and rubbing his scalp furiously. He couldn't explain it because he wasn't sure what needed explaining. His mind felt like a lucky dip lately; he felt he could stick his hand in and at any given moment something random would come out; some strange emotion, or some stupid remark.

His room was cold, too cold for July. It was empty, also. A part of him missed Spinners End where from ceiling to floor, books littered the walls. His old sheets were more comfortable than the one's at Grimmauld Place and while he hated his neighbours and they hated him, they were familiar faces, and they were people he could shamefully invest his hatred in. Lying face down on the cool sheets, he let out a deep sigh. In the far corner, Truble hooted softly, rustling his feathers and settling on top of Severus' trunk. Something had changed in the short time he had been in Grimmauld Place. That was all he could call it…_something_.

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_Happy: How could you hate the Walking Dead? I will admit though that it gets monotonous. There's only so much running away from zombies they can do before it's been done too much! Dale Dixon though._

_Death Eater: That's Dumbledore's problem, I feel. He can be inconsiderate and he knows that people will react to his words. _

_Second Impressions Chapter Seven - Complete._


	8. Authors Note

**To all of my readers, reviewers, followers, subscribers and to anyone who in the near future may stumble across this story – thank you. Thank you for following each chapter, participating in its development, scolding Severus and his stupidity and empathizing with our poor Remus.**

**This is as far as I can take Second Impressions for now. I never intended to leave this story behind but now that I think about it, I don't think I ever intended to finish it either. When I began this story I hadn't written anything chaptered in a very, very long time, and I wanted to chance my arm and try again. I used Second Impressions to remind myself what I was getting into when writing chaptered tales...I remember now.**

**It takes planning, dedication and will power. Right now I haven't got any of that on hand. I've got some circumstances holding me back and for now, I need to leave Second Impressions some time to rest. I will come back to it. Constantly nag and remind me to do so and no doubt I'll deliver. But for now I need to put it on hiatus.**

**I'm sorry if you're dissapointed. I truly am. I myself hate when authors do this and it upsets me that I've done this to you. I hope you'll remain active around my profile though and stay tuned for some one-shots and drabbles and maybe some other stories that are playing very strongly on my mind right now.**

**Stay active guys. Make sure that you write yourself. Post something, anything: drabbles, rants and raves, chapters, slash, angst, comedy... anything! Keep the magic alive y'all. It's up to us. See you all _very _soon.**


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